A Ficlet Trilogy
by Rizzy.and.Izzy
Summary: I did a trilogy of short one-shots before. This is another one, only a little darker. The first story is in Jane's POV about Maura in a bad mood. The second story is completely open to interpretation. The third and final story is AU. Maura hasn't met Jane yet, and she never will... *(Character death in final story.)*
1. Chapter 1

_It feels like I haven't shared anything with you guys in forever. I'm truly sorry about that. Stories are coming. Trust me._

_These shorter ficlets will be in a different style than I've used in the past, but I hope you'll give them a chance. _

_Let me know what you think._

* * *

**Maura's in a mood...**

* * *

Is it her mother? (Which one?)  
Is it her father? (Which one?)

(Could it possibly be you?)

The job? A tough case? You're pretty sure you didn't actually change her shoe boxes around.

Maura gets in these moods sometimes. Thankfully, not often.

You never know quite what sets them off. Or what you can do to unsettle them.

She looks away from you during them.

Your eyes still continue to track her every movement.

Most times her eyes will follow yours.

Except for some times.

Times like this.

There is nothing more violent than when your girlfriend won't look at you.

You know it's ridiculous, but you can't help taking it personally.

Here is a woman who values words above almost all else.

And she refuses to use them. Won't even so much as look at you because she knows that would be the same as speaking.

Her eyes can't ever keep quiet when looking at yours.

So she keeps her face down and her eyes away from yours.

And you sit. You wait. You suffer her silence because it's all you can do.

You can't go to her. You can't touch her.

She won't let you.

Not when she's like this.

So you sit across from her. In the same room as her. Because it's all she'll let you do.

During times like this.

You'd give your life if she would just look at you. Just for a second.

So she could see that your eyes don't pry. They don't judge.

They can care, and they can try.

They can understand, if given the chance.

Because you understand. You get in moods, too.

And when you're in them, she's the only one who can help you. The only one you want to see.

You could do that for her, be that for her.

You could help her.

If she would only just look at you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Becoming...**

* * *

It's a coming undone. It's a letting go. It's a feeling of being so safe you don't worry about falling or of where you're going to land because it is not a crashing, but a breaking through. The teasing tickling feathers of being so close to something undeniable.

Gravity working in the opposite direction, trying to pull you up, up, up instead of keeping you down. It's an all-encompassing force, making you inhabit everything in the atmosphere, the stars, the planets, the air. All of it, invisible inside you. You are your own tiny world.

It's a pleasure you never want to end, but a pain you almost can't stand. As you get closer and closer, becoming this mass of pulsing friction, driving beats, forced collision. It's the fastest thing you've ever witnessed yet you still find yourself waiting for it to begin. You're on the brink of passing out. You're either breathing too much, breathing too hard or holding your breath. It's some impossible combination of the three.

You can barely move to let it happen. Frozen in place, muscles aching from the strain of waiting, of wanting, of knowing that what is just about to occur is what you've heard about all your life. It's a beginning and an ending. It continues and completes itself over and over. It starts and stops. It's endless and impossible. Unbelievable and unforgiving.

It finally happens and you're weightless. You don't exist yet you can feel the universe move through you. It's the loudest silence that has ever echoed in your ears. It swirls around your brain and plants roots in your heart. They expand inside you and span around you and you become this new being. Stronger and more alive than you were before.

It is so powerful because you know it will not last. It is too immeasurable to be contained for too long in one place, in one space, at one time. It will move through you and around you and become you, but only for one night. It will move on to someone else after you.

The final thing it gives you is not just the memory of it, but the proof that it exists, that it has passed through you. The roots of it stay in your soul.


	3. Chapter 3

(I apologize for any inaccuracies.)

* * *

She had been working with Médecins Sans Frontières in Ethiopia for just over a year, when she was transferred to another station. She had no problem working in a different area. There had been a new wave of unrest in that region, and they could benefit the most from her skill and ability.

It was also an opportunity to get away from Ian. She knew he would always choose his work over her. He had no desire to try and strike a balance between the two. So she chose herself over him.

There weren't as many resources available in that part of the country, but she had brought over as many flak jackets as she could, just in case.

Leaving was never an option for her. And no matter what she told her new team, how she didn't expect them to stay, it was never an option for them either. The work they were doing there was just too important to abandon.

When the threat of violence turned into a guarantee, the only thing they could do was wait.

It proved to be a quick escalation.

Bullet after bullet followed with increased succession. Landing closer and closer.

Ricocheting off rocks.

Scorching through flesh.

There was shrapnel, and there was death.

Amid the hurried desperation, she took off the flak jacket she was wearing and put it on a young child that had been holding her hand since the attack began. And in the only other means she had of protecting him, she sheltered him with her own body. A human shield, but willingly.

So when that one fated bullet dislodged from the sniper rifle, it hit her instead. She wrapped herself tighter around the child, holding him closer. Trying to protect him from more gun fire. More trauma. Trying to keep him from seeing the reddish brown st- the blood. Her blood.

Before her world went black and her eyes shut for the last time, she whispered to him, _remember the good_. Her hold around him loosened.

The blood would wash away, and the sound of the bullets would fade, but her memory would stay with him forever.

Maura was the good.


End file.
